


Five Memories and an Ending

by WhelmedAsterMaster (charlion_em)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, dickdamiweek2016, mostly just fluff then a lot of angst, set over about 5/6 years, side relationship: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:38:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8012173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlion_em/pseuds/WhelmedAsterMaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Damian found himself pining over Dick and one time he did something about it.</p><p>OR: If asked, Damian would point to this day as his turning point. He wouldn’t answer whoever asked, but the question would undoubtedly bring the memory bubbling up from the hidden dark corners of his mind. In fact, five such memories would undoubtedly float up and he would spend the rest of the evening forcing them back into the depths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jealousy

 

 

“You know,” Jason leaned over the back of Damian’s plush chair to whisper low in his ear, “Dick was complaining about you ignoring him again.”

Damian didn’t tear his eyes off the reflection of Dick wearing a ridiculous party hat. From this chair he had a perfect view of the mirror in the hall, and thus the perfect view of Dick’s place upon the couch. Being in the next room gave him plenty of room to glare at the man without repercussion.

Jason followed his line of sight and chuckled into his ear. “Looks like your cat abandoned you again.”

Damian flicked his eyes towards Jason for a moment before returning to his glaring. Nothing he tried worked. No amount of treats could convince his cat to stay with him whenever Dick came to visit.

Currently, the little traitor was perched on Dick’s lap enjoying the attention of Dick’s fingers in her fur. He would have preferred her running and hiding when they had visitors over this. With Tim, or even Jason, she would say hello, stay long enough to shed on them, then be right back with Damian. But when Dick was at the manor, it was like Damian didn’t exist at all.

“Jealous?”

There was something in Jason’s tone that screamed at him to not answer. But Jason was all but harmless, so what if he made fun of Damian for being possessive of his cat?

“Yes.” What was it about Dick that his cat was drawn to? Sure, he understood when _people_ were drawn to him. But his own cat? Whom he raised from a small kitten?

“Yeaaah,” Jason made a show of stretching next to his chair. “I’d like to crawl onto that lap too.”

Damian whirled around to face him, “Todd.” Heat rose up his neck, and he cursed his body’s betrayal. “He steals my cat every time he’s here.”

“It’s okay, baby bat.” Jason smirked over Damian’s shoulder. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Heeey!” Dick’s voice carried through the room as he waltzed. Damian continued to face away, cringing when Jason’s smirk deepened. “There’s the birthday boy!”

Damian swatted at the hand ruffling his hair and turned to glare at the offender.

“What’s wrong baby bat?”

“Aww, Dick, come on.” Jason’s voice was sickeningly sweet as he purred out the words. “He’s 15 now, not a baby bat anymore.”

“Todd, you literally _just_ called me that.” Damian couldn’t look at either of them, so instead he focused on the ball of fluff in Dicks arm.

Dick shrugged, “How about some cake? Alfred made your favorite.”

“Judging by the icing smeared on your cheek, I’ll assume you’ve already partaken.”

“Geeze, you’re less fun than usual today.” He made no attempt to wipe his face and Damian could think of a few ways he could get the confection off of his skin.

“Don’t mind him,” Jason leaned on the armrest. He’s just upset his cat’s been occupying your lap all day.”

His arm twitched, but he managed to prevent it from lodging in Jason’s side. “I’m too old for parties. You have no need to be here.” It was basically tradition for Dick to make a big deal for everyone’s birthday.

Dick made a show of rolling his eyes and ruffled Damian’s hair with his free hand. “Fine, more cake for me.” He sauntered off, Damian’s cat still secure in his arm.

Jason snorted. “Wow, never going to get that invite acting like that.”

He was again aware of the heat on the back of his neck as it spread upwards. “I don’t want to sit in his lap.”

“Whatever you say.” Jason chuckled as he walked towards the cave.

Damian went back to his glaring. In the mirror he watched as Dick took back his seat on the couch, the Cat once again sprawling out on his lap. Slowly, he reached up to the bright party hat on his head. Damian’s stomach knotted at the dejected expression on Dick’s face as he slipped the elastic strap off and tossed the hat behind him.

The cat leaned up, forcing her head against Dick’s hand in a demand for attention. It was small, but a smile was on Dick’s lips as he pet the ball of fluff in his lap. He wished he could bring a smile to Dick’s face, but all he ever seemed to do was remove one.

Yes, Damian decided. He was jealous of the cat after all. 

 


	2. Flexibility

 

“I can’t, tonight is-”

“Not a patrol night. Not a training night. Not a school night.” Dick ticked each off on a finger while he leaned smugly against the kitchen island like the argument would be won that easily.

“Music practice. Violin to be specific.” Next week he would brush up on the piano. He wasn’t slipping, but that was thanks to his constant practice.

“Hooow about you practice singing on the way then? That counts as music, right?”

“Way to where exactly? You haven’t exactly said.” Damian made it a point to not look at Dick as he snuck one of Alfred’s cookies.

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.” Dick jingled his keys, drawing Damian’s attention. He had his car today, not his bike.

“No. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He brushed past Dick.

“You know, it’s okay to deviate from your schedule now and then.”

Damian sighed as he stopped in the doorway. The more he spoke with Dick, the more likely the man would get his way. As always. “I like my schedule.”

“C’mon, be flexible.”

That word.

Damian looked away. He hated stupid teenage hormones, just one word and he was picturing Dick’s amazing flexibility, how he could bend and flip- and the way his muscles moved under his Nightwing costume. Every fantasy he’d had crashed around him, clamoring to be the most vivid. And Dick was _right there_.

He squared his shoulders and forced the butterflies away.

“I’m plenty _flexible_. I fail to see how that has any bearing on me deviating from my schedule.” When in doubt, be obtuse. It never ceased to garner a reaction from Dick, today was no exception.

“Brat.” Dick rolled his eyes. “You’re being pain on purpose. Can’t you let me have _thi_ s?”

“What is so important that you’re demanding I change my schedule at the last minute? You could have at least called in advance so I would have had time to rearrange my schedule to maintain optimum-”

“Enough. I’m trying to do something nice for your birthday!” Dick pocketed his keys. “Go. Stick to your schedule, I’ll get some work done in the cave so this isn’t a wasted trip.”

“My birthday isn’t for another two weeks.” Of course, Dick was going to guilt him into going to whatever embarrassing party he’d planned.

“Yea, but tonight’s the least busy night either of us have for over a month. It doesn’t matter if it’s early.”

“ _Grayson_.”

“No party. No cake, no hats.” Dick held up his hand. “You said you were too old for parties last year. But, I’m not letting you off of your sweet 16 completely.” With those eyes, and the slight pout of his lips, Dick could probably convince even Jason to dance the macarena sober. Damian didn’t stand a chance.

“Fine.” Damian resigned himself to whatever form of birthday torture Dick had in store for him.

With a victory hoot, Dick threw his arm around Damian’s shoulders and marched him to his car. They drove for nearly twenty minutes before Damian demanded to know where they were heading.

“Why are we leaving Gotham?” He stared at the road signs, following the mental map in his head.

“We’re not. Just heading to the outskirts.”

“You mean the suburbs?” Damian glared as they past the second white fence and manicured lawn with the same cookie-cutter house.

“MmmHmm.” Dick turned down a narrow road leading up to a old farm house next to a run down barn. It was out of place in the suburban aesthetic of the area, but it was charming and looked more welcoming than any of the plastic houses down the road.

“I don’t understand,” Damian turned to Dick as he put the car into park.

Dick only smiled and stepped out of the car. Damian followed him as he took a stone path past the front door and continued around to the back of the house. Sounds of farm animals came from different directions, a horse nickered to their right, and he was certain he heard a bleat in the distance.

As they came to the fence at the back of the house, Dick waved furiously to a lady waiting by the gate. Now, Damian was even more confused. He waited patiently for Dick to explain.

“Wanda! So sorry we’re late!”

“Don’t worry kid.” She peered at Damian, adjusting her hat to get a better look as he came to stand next to Dick. “So, this is the birthday boy?”

Damian nodded, “I’m Damian.”

Wanda leaned over the fence to shake his offered hand. “Nice to meet ya. If you’re ready, we can head back now.”

She unlocked the large gate, allowing them into the enclosure. Damian followed silently as they headed towards a small building almost attached to the house.

A border collie came around the corner of the building, growling a warning at them. “Hey, now. Toby, it’s okay they’re friends.”

The dog walked towards them, and when he got closer Damian realized he only had three legs. He stopped to sniff at Dick’s shoes, then made his way to Damian. He looked up with piercing eyes and gave one quick bark before rolling to his back.

“Aww, he likes you.”

Damian smiled, dropping down to rub the dog’s belly. “He moves great for only having three legs. What happened?”

Wanda shrugged. “He’s a survivor, that one. Thought I was bringing him here for hospice, a comfortable end. But, he kicked right back after a few months. Heards my chickens right back if they wander off too close to the neighbors.”

Damian looked questioningly at Dick, never stopping petting Toby

“Wanda takes in animals the shelters don’t have the resources or space to care for.”

Oh. Wow. Damian had not expected to have a new life aspiration today. “So, you adopted Toby?”

“Didn’t expect to. But he’s family now. Some animals recover and can be adopted to families, others stay here with me for the remainder of their lives. I have the space, and being retired gave me the time, fostering critters just seemed natural.”

“Wanda was a livestock vet.”

“How… did you meet a vet?”

“A case. My rookie year as a cop, we got a report of an abused miniature horse down by the library. Wanda was the vet called in, all the way from Gotham.”

“Ah, Sebastian is still a spunky little shit too. He’s living on a farm a few miles from here.”

Toby suddenly jumped back up, sniffing the air. He took of towards the old barn, barking as he ran.

“Ah, Joe must be back.” Wanda shrugged, not expanding on who Joe was or where he had been. She started back towards the small building.

“So…” He looked up at Dick, a distance which was quickly shrinking each year. “Are we here to help out?”

Ahead of them, Wanda barked out a laugh. “You’re welcome to!”

Dick clapped Damian on the shoulder as they followed Wanda into the shed. Immediately upon stepping into the room, a chorus of little barks rang out. Wanda stepped off to the side, letting Damian be surrounded by puppies.

“There was a puppy mill raid in Bludhaven a few months ago. The shelters could only take so many, and our shelters don’t have the staff to care for pregnant dogs and their litters. So, I called up Wanda.”

“I’m keeping the moms.” Wanda crossed her arms, “They deserve a nice quiet, simple life.”

Damian sunk down to the floor, letting the puppies crawl and jump all over him. While some licked, others nibbled, and one took a liking to his pants leg and tried to run off with it. He reached out, pulling as many into his arms as he could.

“Bruce said one.” Dick smiled widely. “Don’t ask what it took to convince him.”

Damian would find out later, but right now he was enjoying fluffy heaven. Eventually, Dick joined him on the floor. Together, they played with the puppies, and occasionally their moms when they wandered over.

“So, which one?” Dick pulled himself up from where he was laying, pulling two puppies off of him.

Damian took stock of each one, considering their temperaments and relative health.

“Don’t pout.” Dick poked his side.

“I- I can’t decide between these two.” Damian nodded to the two currently in his lap. The chocolate puppy with a tan spot over one eye nipped playfully at his fingers. The other, with a marble coat, tried to climb up his chest.

Dick watched Damian for a few moments, then sighed and scooted closer. He pulled the marbled puppy into his lap, cradling it close. “How about this one is mine?”

“Are you permitted to have a dog in your apartment?” Damian snuggled his puppy close.

“Well, she would need to stay at the manor. And I’d need you to help me train her since I won’t be around every day…”

Damian sat his puppy down and fell against Dick, careful to not smush his puppy as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “Thank you.”

Dick returned the hug with one arm, “What are friends for?”

After a few more minutes of playing with the army of puppies, Dick pulled Damian out of the shed. They said their farewells and settled into the car, both puppies snuggled in Damian’s lap.

“Good thing you wore them out.” Dick reached over to ruffle Damian’s hair.

As they started home, Damian turned to Dick. “Promise you won’t steal my dog like you do my cat?”

Dick chuckled, “Still pissed at me about that?”

“I just don’t get it!” Damian gently pet the puppies.

“I… uh, cheated. I always have catnip in my pocket when I visit.”

“What the hell, Grayson!”

“Hey, I was trying to get you to spend time with me. You’ve been avoiding me more and more, and when you got your cat, I thought showing you she liked me would, I don’t know…”

Oh. Damian turned to stare out the window. “A truce, then? You stop with the catnip and I won’t train your dog to attack you.”

“Aww, look at you making jokes. It’s good to see you opening up more.”

Damian fidgeted in his seat, he needed to change the subject. “Do you think Father would let me foster animals at the Manor? “

Dick chuckled, “Do you honestly think you’d be able to give them up when the time came?”

“Probably not.”

Damian looked down at the sleeping puppies in his lap, then up to Dick’s smiling face. A small ball of guilt settled in under his glowing delight; all the time he spent avoiding Dick had clearly weighed more on the man than his jovial joking let on. His eyes lingered a bit too long on on his lips. Today just reinforced how thoroughly amazing Dick was as a person. The lie he’d been telling himself for over a year would no longer hold back the truth. Because, deep down, Damian knew he liked Dick for more than his dashing looks and annoyingly potent charisma.

Even if it was just a crush which would dissipate, Damian decided he’d like to keep Dick as a friend. Even if it meant changing his schedule at the last minute.

But…

If Dick was involved, maybe being flexible wasn’t so bad.


	3. Age swap/reversal

 

Damian hated time travel with the same passion as he hated the multi verse. Mix the two, and he was sure someone was going to die. To make it worse, he wasn’t even permitted into the briefing room.

Being invited to the watchtower was becoming more and more common the closer he got to his 17th birthday. It was his father’s way of showing more trust, giving him more responsibility. And it was only fair, the cowl would be his one day. He deserved to be among the other heroes.

Yet, as soon as the portal had opened, he was shoved to the sidelines. To make it even worse, to drive the knife further and twist: it was very clearly himself who had walked through the portal. Older, definitely. Probably almost as old as Bruce. An emergency meeting had been called, and he’d been ordered to stay in the cave.

His only consolation was that Tim was also being excluded from the meeting.

“If we are to be prohibited from assisting in this new matter, we should continue to work our current case.” Working with Tim was a chore, but he needed something -anything- to distract him from his dismissal.

“Okay, are we not going to talk about older you just waltzing into the middle of the watchtower?” Tim perched himself on the high-back of his chair.

Jason whistled from the seat of the same chair. “Yea, babybat, you grow up hot.”

Damian turned to the computer to hide his burning cheeks. “Like it was ever up for debate? I’m hot now.”

Jason hooted out a laugh. “Since you’ve been hanging out with Grayson you’ve been much more fun.”

A soft _thwap_ echoed behind him, most likely Tim smacking Jason’s head.

“Father wouldn’t even let me speak to myself. I barely got a look in…” Which was disappointing. Knowing of any scars would benefit him in future battles. And he had a million questions for himself. Though, from the little information Tim was able to get before Bruce kicked him out, it sounded like this future visitor was also from a different universe. Who knew if their lives were even the same.

They spent the next hour sifting through surveillance. Well, Damian did. Tim and Jason wouldn’t stop talking long enough to concentrate on anything. “If you two don’t stop flirting, I’m going to separate you.”

Tim immediately moved to another station, quickly opening a new screen and hacking into something (it probably didn’t even pertain to the case, but he was quiet).

Jason tossed a balled up receipt from his pocket at Damian’s head. “We’re not flirting, kid.”

“Suuuure.” Damian filed this bit of information away to use against them again.

“Oh?” His voice was so fake-sweet Damian’s ‘immediate danger’ alarm went off in his head and he rotated his chair to prevent a sneak attack. “Like all the time you’ve been…”

Tim sucked in a breath and hissed, “Jason!”

“… spending with Dick? Maybe you could use some pointers on flirting, hmm? Because I’ve been watching you, and your game sucks.”  
  


“I’m not-”

“Save it.”

“ _Jason_.” Tim’s voice promised bodily harm if Jason continued.

Jason leaned his hip  against the batcomputer. “What do you say, babybat?”

“If I do decide to seek out advice, it will be from someone who has actually succeeded.” Thinking about Dick’s past relationships always sent a spike of envy through his heart.

Tim chuckled, “He’s got you there Jay.”

Jason huffed. “I’ll just use my talents on someone who appreciates them.”

“Good luck finding someone.” Tim went back to typing away at his computer.

Damian refrained from asking just what their relationship was. They bickered constantly, but always had the other’s back. And when they forgot someone else was with them, they flirted like fucking high schoolers.

The sound of the Batmobile returning renewed Damian’s irritation over being shoved to the sidelines. He glared at the vehicle until it parked, then transferred his glare to Batman as he exited onto the platform. Nightwing was with him, but stayed by the batmobile, his shoulders tense.

Damian ignored Batman as he moved towards them. Instead, he joined Nightwing at the car. He wanted to pull him close, rub the tension from his shoulders, kiss down his neck– “What is going on?”

Nightwing angled away from him, “The visitor from the future-”

“-me-”

“-he gave us intel on an inter-dimensional threat tearing through his world and now it is heading for ours. You and Red Robin will watch Gotham while we help handle it.”

“I can help! I can-”

“Robin.”

Damian swallowed. Dick hadn’t used his Batman voice since Bruce took back the cowl. He’d _promised_ he’d never use it again. They’d faced world-ending threats before, it wasn’t an excuse. He glanced over at Dick, he no longer needed to look up, a fact Jason had rubbed in just a few days prior. He waited for Dick to apologize, to at least look at him with a soft smile and a promise to talk later.

But neither came. Just a cherry on an already insulting day.

He briskly left, returning to his chair at the computer, and eternally grateful his mask was on to hide the tears prickling the corners of his eyes. Dick was never intentionally cruel, he reasoned. After the mission, he would demand an apology.

Batman swapped out his utility belt for one fully stocked. “Red Hood, are you geared up?”

Jason nodded, reaching for his helmet with a smirk. “Always.”

Damian didn’t look up from the screen to watch them leave, and didn’t move until Tim approached him. “Dami, how do you want to split up patrol?”

Yes. Patrol. Just what he needed to work out some of his frustration. Tim shared the sentiment, being sidelined never sat well with him either.

* * *

 

It was past dawn when they returned, the echo of the batmobile’s engine pulled Damian from his sleep. He’d curled up on the catwalk to wait for them after Tim’s searches yielded no results on their mission. Neither could figure out why they took Jason, of all people. If it was to be a covert op, Jason was the last on any of their lists.

His plan was to corner Dick and demand an apology, but it went out the window as he watched Bruce and future-him pull Dick from the batmobile. Jason ran ahead to get a wheelchair as Alfred entered the cave, heading straight to the medical cubby.

“Guys, I can walk.” Hearing Dick’s voice reassured Damian that it probably wasn’t life threatening.

“Not letting you hurt yourself further, Dickie.” Jason flicked his nose. “You’re an idiot.”

Once Dick was in Alfred’s care, Jason retreated to the showers. Bruce nodded towards the batmobile, signaling to future-Damian it was time to go.

Future-Damian said something to Alfred and Bruce, and after a few seconds of staring, they walked away, leaving him and Dick alone. From his position, Damian couldn’t see into the medical room, nor could he hear. Frustrated, he climbed down the the main floor.

“Father. I trust all went well.”

“The mission was a success. I’ll be taking our visitor back to the watchtower where his portal is located.”

“I want to talk to-”

“No. I don’t want to risk any sort of paradox.”

“But-”

“Robin.”

Damian took a step back. First Dick, now Bruce? Did neither of them see him as capable? He knew his father was capable of being obtuse to the point of insult, he’d heard stories from all the robins before him. It was a major reason Dick left to do his own thing, so it was the last thing he expected from him.

“I’m not a-”

“Robin. Enough.” With that, Bruce turned to return to the batmobile, future-Damian was already waiting.

With clenched fists, Damian walked over to the medical room. Alfred was wrapping Dick’s leg, it looked like a long cut, but not deep at least. Dick only glanced up at him, then quickly looked back to his phone. It only fueled the fire burning inside him.

Ignoring Alfred’s presence, Damian squared his shoulders. “I’m not a child.”

“Yes, you are.” He said it without hesitation, then snapped his head up when he heard his own words. “Damian, I-”

“Forget it, Grayson.” He put as much venom in his voice as he could muster. He didn’t stick around, his eyes were burning and he wasn’t about to ruin the illusion. Anger was a well worn cloak, donning it again would be no trouble at all.

Both dogs greeted him when he returned to the manor. Over the last year, he’d grown fond of both of them. Dick came by at least once a week (more often it was 3 or 4 times) to help train his pup. At least Dick kept _that_ promise.

He’d even go so far to call Dick his best friend, something which was clearly one sided. How had he been so blind? Of course, Dick wouldn’t consider him an equal. Damian was a decade younger than him, and no amount of training or physical growth would change the fact.

Jason and Tim were talking softly in the kitchen, Jason’s hair was still damp from his shower. Tim acknowledged him first, “I was wondering where you got to.”

Damian eyed the fresh muffins on the table, he hadn’t eaten since before patrol the night before, but the mere thought of food sent his stomach churning. “I wanted to talk to them.”

Jason snorted. “Guess that went well.”

“I need to reevaluate my future.” Damian strode towards the stairs leading to the bedrooms, ignoring the long looks shared between Tim and Jason.

He was thankful the dogs stayed downstairs, they were a bitter reminder of a happier memory. On his desk was his college acceptance letter, a formality really. Business school, then into the family business, as well as the cowl… eventually. That was the plan, one which had been laid out before he even had his first chest hair. And he’d readily agreed, like the good son he was.

Downstairs, he heard muffled raised voices. It was too soon for Bruce to have returned, so that left only four options. He debated heading out of his room to listen in, but the voices suddenly cut off, punctuated by the front door slamming shut.

“Must be Jason and Tim leaving.” Damian sighed, turning down his comforter. The few hours he’d managed in the cave were plenty to get him through the day, but sleep was a welcome escape.

He was drifting off when there came a soft knock at his door. _Dick_. Damian tossed the covers off, rushing to throw open the door, ready to forgive Dick and move past everything from the previous 24 hours. Well, as soon as the other man apologized.  

But, when the door swung open, it wasn’t Dick standing there with an apology on his lips. Damian’s smile faltered as Jason invited himself into his room.

“Todd, I was almost asleep.”

“I just wanted to check on you. You’re little quip downstairs was worrisome.” He plopped himself on Damian’s bed.

Damian crossed his arms. “I didn’t know you cared.”

“Hey, us bats look out for each other.” He sighed. “What did Dick say? Tim asked him and Dick told him it was nothing.”

Nothing? “Is that why there was shouting?”

“He may have said some rude things to Tim.” Jason chuckled before sighing and continuing. “I asked him to come talk to you, and he refused. Made every fucking excuse.”

“Oh…” Damian swallowed.

“He is the poster child for pulling away from the Robin title. I thought he may be able to offer some advice for whatever you’re going through.”

“I don’t know what I did wrong.” Damian eyed the papers on his desk. He played the role given to him.

“Besides be an annoying brat? You’re good. I mean, when’s the last time you pulled a stunt on patrol and went against B’s plan, or put blue dye in my shampoo?”

Jason leaned forward, face serious. “Damian, it is okay to want to do your own thing. We’ve all gone through it. …Some more gracefully than others.”

“He broke a promise. One meant to close the division caused when he had the cowl. It was the reason I could be open with him, why I went along with some of his stupid ideas like going to the carnival with you guys last week. But all of that trust was based on a lie. He never thought of me as a friend, just his old Robin.”

Jason blinked at him. “That’s fucked up. I doubt he meant it. Give him some time, he’ll apologize.”

At that, Jason left. Damian looked down at his bed, but any thoughts of sleep were gone. He looked over to his desk, making up his mind on one aspect of his future. As far as his friendship with Dick, he would heed Jason’s advice.

Time was an odd thing to measure. He gave Dick what he thought was enough time: two days. Then, it stretched into a week. And when it reached the second week and Dick hadn’t so much as came over to see his dog, Damian gave up.

On the third week, Dick showed up on patrol, a streak of blue on the outskirts. His leg was healed well enough to get back to the streets. Damian went the opposite direction.

On the fourth week, Damian turned 17. Dick didn’t make an appearance, but Tim and Jason pulled him out for some greasy food and some advice.

It was Jason who shared some insight into Dick’s behavior. “Look, future you told him he died when they were attacked on his Earth. And he was close to dieing on ours. Let him process.”

And Tim assured him his feelings would pass, “Dami, this crush of yours is something we all went through. And it’s making his avoidance hurt worse, I know. But you’re strong. When he comes asking for forgiveness, I have no doubt you’ll be able to tell him off.”

On week five, Dick showed up at the manor in his civies. Damian stayed in his room, with the door cracked open so he could hear what was said.

“I got a new place, B. A condo near the station. I’ll text you the address later.”

“Damian is upstairs studying. You should let him know you’re taking your dog.”

There was a pause, then, “I’ll see you around, Bruce.”

Except for necessary team ups when their cases intertwined, Damian didn’t see Dick at all. After the second one, Damian made sure he was with the Titans when their cases looked like they may cross. If the Titans didn’t have anything going on, he would team up with Tim or Jason for the night.

He spent his 18th birthday with the titans too.

All the while, he wondered what he did. Or what his future self had done. Everything was fine until he has shown up. Or maybe it hadn’t been, and it was just a coincidence. Though rare, they were known to happen. 


	4. do he got a booty

 

It took Bruce almost a year to realize he wasn't going to college for business. Damian was well into his second semester when Bruce confronted him, eyebrows drawn and voice raised.

When the argument was over, Damian found himself wanting to reach out to Dick for the first time in two years. Heck, it was Dick’s little birthday surprise almost four years ago which set him on this path.

But, he refrained from dialing the number. Although Dick seemed to no longer to be avoiding his very existence, their interactions boiled down to three things: punching bad guys, training, and silent dinners insisted on by Alfred. There were no more jovial undertones to their team ups, no early morning bitch sessions when Bruce was being especially, well, _Bruce_. No lazy afternoons at the arcade. But, he made due with the people he still had in his life. 

Oddly enough, he found comfort in talking to Tim. He was the ex-robin closest to his own age, and, despite their rocky beginnings, Damian long since learned to respect Tim. Which was for the best, he found. After hearing some of Tim’s suggestions to ‘get back’ at Dick, Damian was glad he'd never pissed Tim off to the point of pranks. They put his own to shame.

“So, Bruce found out.” The words tumbled out as soon as he walked through Tim’s window.

“About your stash of candy or the veterinary school?”

“School.” He helped himself to some of the leftover batter in the mixing bowl. “Mm, good.”

“Baking Jason a cake… er, trying to. This is try number three. If this doesn't work then it's off to the store.” He set the timer on the oven and turned to Damian. “What's the damage?”

“I'm moving into the dorms.” He was almost 20, he was fully capable of deciding his own future.

“What about your pets?”

Damian bit his lip, “I was hoping you or Jason could take my cat?”

“Shouldn't be a problem for a few months…”

“I'll get my own apartment by next fall. I'll work on it once my spring semester is done.” He folded his arms on the small kitchen island. He looked around Tim’s apartment, eyeing the half-assed decorations. “Anything I can help with?”

Tim looked up from his phone, wincing as he blinked at Damian. “So… I didn’t know how to bring this up so I basically forgot?”

“Drake, spit it out.”

“Roy invited Dick to Jason’s birthday party tonight. The invites were all word of mouth, but I figured Dick would have some sense to stay away if there was a chance you’d be here.”

A vein on Damian’s forehead flinched. “He's ignored my last three birthdays.”

“I know. But you've been hanging out more -”

“We do not ‘ _hang out’_. It is strictly a _business_ relationship.”

“You make a habit of checking out everyone you have a _business relationship_ with?”

Damian flushed. “Sorry, you put a nice ass in front of me I'm going to look no matter how shitty a person is attached to it.”

Tim whistled. “Still crushing, huh?”

“No.”

Tim tisked at him. “You're spending too much time over here. Talking _and_ lying like Jason.”

“I'm going to fix your deplorable decorations.”

“There's the Dami snark.” Tim pointed to the rest of the decorations overflowing from a box on the floor. “So, speaking of great asses… are the rumors about-”

“No. I swear if someone else asks me about my love life I'm going to-”

“Whoa.” Tim held up placating hands. “I'm just curious. You have been spending a lot of time with Gar…”

“Actually, there is someone in one of my classes I like. I'm thinking about asking him out but - OH MY GOD!” His sudden exclamation and movement sent the box of decorations tumbling over.

“What!?” Tim ran over, ready to face an intruder. “What's wrong?”

Damian turned around, a small black box in his hand. “Drake?’

“Shit.” Tim raked a hand through his hair. “Fuck. Thank you- It must have fallen out of my pocket.”

“Are you seriously going to…?” Damian smirked.

“Yea. Tonight, after everyone leaves.” Tim pocketed the box. “Or tomorrow, depending on how drunk he is tonight.”

“So, tomorrow.” Damian cuffed him on the shoulder, “He'd be an idiot to say no.” Honestly, it was about time. They’d been flirting for as long as Jason had came back to himself. And, apparently, Tim was so impressed with Jason telling Dick off that night three years ago that he'd kissed Jason on their way back to their safe house.

“So, this guy you're interested in…?” Tim smirked as he wandered back to the kitchen, then paused at the jingle of keys at the door. “Fuck.” The door opened, Jason waltzing in with a huge grin. “Jay! You're not supposed to be home yet!”

Jason crossed to the kitchen, pushed Tim against the counter, kissing him passionately. Tim leaned into the kiss for a moment before his hands climbed to his shoulders, pushing him away so he could talk. “Babe, wow, hi, glad to see you too. But we have company.”

Jason turned to look in the living room.

Damian waved. He went back to decorating, leaving them alone. Or, he tried.

“So, Damian was just telling me about a guy he liiiiikes.”

“How's the ass?” Jason smacked Tim’s. “It takes a mighty one to distract from Dick’s”

“Please, I love you Jay but my ass isn't even on the same level.” Tim laughed as he patted Jason’s ass.

“Well, your booty is the only one for me.”

“Can we stop talking about asses?” Damian glared over at them. Telling them about his crush on Dick had been a terrible mistake. “I text him before I came over asking him for coffee.”

“You _text_ him” Tim’s chastisement was cut off by the the the oven timer.

“Ooo? Cake? _Babe_!”

* * *

 

By the time preparations were done -and Tim and Jason had _mysteriously_ disappeared for twenty minutes- Jason’s friends began to arrive, and any talk of Damian’s love interest was forgotten.

Damian wasn't one to drink, or socialize with the older heroes outside of the Gotham crew. But, he'd promised Jason he would come and if he backed out now, Tim would assume it was because Dick was coming. Which was true.

Every time there was a knock at the door, his heart leapt into his throat.

Damian was around the corner when Roy and Dick arrived. He heard Dick’s laugh over the music, a soft and musical sound. How long had it been since he’d heard that laugh?

He kept to his corner, listening to Kon tell Tim about the recent happenings in Metropolis. It was too much to hope to ignore Dick the whole evening, and a hand clapping him on the back had him wishing he'd left already.

“Whoa, underage alert. Not drinking are you?”

“Hi, Roy.” Damian nodded over his shoulder, pointedly ignoring Dick next to him.

Tim rolled his eyes, “Roy, please, we all know you were drinking when you were 19. Younger even.”

“I'm not even drinking.” Damian shrugged at his empty hands.

Roy pushed a bottle into his hands, “No excuses!”

Luckily, they moved on, cornering Jason with birthday wishes. Damian followed them with his eyes, keeping a distance as they moved around. He didn't have a protocol to fall back on here. It wasn’t like dinners or training, there was no set routine he could latch to, no safety net.

The label of the beer was wet under his fingernails. He hadn’t taken a sip yet, and probably wouldn't. But having it helped him fit in, and seeing it in his hand brought a huge smile to Jason’s face.

His phone buzzed against his thigh. All thoughts of the party, and _Dick_ , flew from his mind as he backed to a corner to read it in private. Cal should be getting off his last class, it was only logical he should have expected a text back now.

But, would it be an answer in the affirmative? Or would his risk backfire, leading to him losing one of the few  ~~people he could stand~~ friends he'd made in college.

Ever one to be attuned to inner turmoil, Jason entered his personal space without warning. “Everything okay? You've been staring at your phone.”

“So?”

“Must be important if you tore your eyes away from Dick’s dancing.” Jason crossed his arms and he leaned in, trying to get a peek at Damian’s phone.

“I have a text.” His phone’s screen was still black as he worked on the nerves to read the text. “Dick can go fuck himself.”

Jason giggled, which he would later deny, then blame on the copious amount of alcohol he'd already consumed. “He probably could.”

“Augh. Go away, Todd.” Damian pushed at his shoulder. Jason no longer towered over him, in fact, he was the closest to Jason’s height now. He wondered idly if he had a few more inches left to go, but he was satisfied at being taller than Tim and _Dick_.

Speaking of Tim. “Hey, watch who you push. I'd like Jason to _not_ fall over drunk tonight.” He gave Damian a pointed look.

“Tiiiim!” Jason swung an arm over his boyfriend's shoulders. “Dami won't let me read the text from his mystery guy.”

“I haven't even read it yet!” Damian snapped his eyes back up. He blinked, there were far too many people standing around him.

“Aww, does Dami have crush?” Roy smirked over Tim’s shoulder. That's right, he had been speaking with Tim before Damian retreated to his corner. _For_ _privacy_. Dick had followed as well, it seamed. He hovered just outside the ring of nosey drunks.

“Urgh!” Damian pulled his phone up, hoping to block their view. His own reflection stared back at him, mocking his lack of action. When his phone vibrated a second time, he swallowed his fear and swiped the notification.

His disappointment must have been obvious. Jason patted his shoulder, “There's plenty of fish in the sea.”

“Shove of, Jason. It isn't from _him_ ” Damian glared at his phone, “It's Alfred.”

“Ooooo.” Jason poked his cheek, “You're in troubllleeeee.”

Tim pulled Jason’s finger away before Damian could bite it. “Everything alright, babybat?”

“Don't call me that.” He sighed, “Sorry. Enjoy the party, I'll handle my own shit.”

Jason crowded him further, “Can't enjoy my birthday if you're over here hiding. Everything alright?”

Right, Jason wasn't home when he told Tim about his fight with Bruce. “I'm fine, Jay. Go get drunk.”

“Dami? If you need to leave, we understand-”

“I'm not going back. I told Drake earlier, I'm moving out of the manor. Alfred is trying to fix something that I have no interest in fixing at the moment.”

Jason’s eyebrows soared. “So, no excuse for not drinking that perfectly good beer in your hand.” He grinned as he started to turn away, “I'm getting you another.”

Roy blinked at him. “Thought you were the golden boy, could do no wrong, perfect son and heir.” He smirked, “So, what did you do? Knock someone up?”

“Roy!” Tim pushed him back, against Dick’s chest.

“What? Maybe it runs in the family, wasn’t Bruce about his age when-”

“Roy, enough.” Dick tugged at his arm.

Tim pushed in front of Roy, gritting his teeth at his lack of couth. “Dami, I'll talk to Jay about your cat when he sobers up tomorrow. I doubt it would be a problem. Do you have a place for your dog?”

“No, I'll probably have to pay for boarding for a few weeks until I find a better solution.”

“Dick has room!” Roy pointed over his shoulder. “Better to have ‘er stay with a friend than a boarding kennel.”

Damian had tread carefully around non-bats, never saying anything bad about Dick, or avoiding the subject completely when possible. As far as he knew, Jason and Tim were the only two who knew the full extent of his dissociation with his former mentor.

Carefully, he found Dick’s eyes over Roy’s shoulder. “Dick and I are _not_ friends.” It was sweet relief to see the myriad of emotions cross over Dick’s face before he began to turn back to the party. “I don’t think we ever _were_.”

Roy looked between him and Dick’s retreating back, “Really? Because you two used to be-”

“Roy.” Tim nudged him with his elbow, urging him to drop the subject.

“Right. So, Kori was saying something about jello shots and belly buttons. I'm going to check into that...”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Well, guess now is a good a time to air dirty laundry.” He tossed a quick look behind them, “Roy’s going to be pestering him about it all night. Serves him right.”

Jason appeared with two fistfulls of shots. “Drink up!”

The liquid burned, which he expected. It wasn’t like he'd never had a drink before, but the concept of drinking to the point of inebriation never sat well with him. As Jason would say though, sometimes you just _needed_ to get drunk.

He lost count of how many drinks he had at some point, the room was spinning pleasantly and the music moved through him. He hadn’t bothered texting Alfred back, opting for sending a message without _actually_ sending one.

Through some miracle he avoided bumping into Dick as they danced around Tim’s small apartment (he would later learn it was, in fact, a sober Tim playing interference).

He was in the middle of room, watching as Vic took a shot from Roy’s navel, when he felt the vibration of his phone. Lazily, he pulled it out to swipe away the notification, but froze when he saw the text was from Cal.

“Jason. Jason!” He swatted for Jason who had _just_ been next to him. “I got a text from the guy!”

He quickly opened the text, reading over it three times before the meaning of the words broke through his drunk haze. “He said yes! Ha!”

Jason appeared in front of him, “Whats with the smiling and shouting? You're scaring my friends. Dick looks absolutely petrified.”

Damian glanced to his side to where he thought Jason was. No, it was Dick. At some point, Dick lost his shirt. Damian let his eyes raked down his lean muscles, the alcohol in his system urged him to lean forward and lick at the one bead of sweat rolling over a hip- but no, he tore his eyes away. He was so close to being free, to _maybe_ falling for someone else.

But, that didn't matter. Nothing was getting him down from his high. “Jason, hesaidyes! Ihaveadate!” He beamed up at Jason.

“Gratz. Do me a favor… never drink around me again. You're too fucking happy when you drink.” But he was grinning, slapping a hand on Damian’s shoulder as Tim came over to see what the fuss was about.

“What do I wear? Shit, what do I do? I don't know how to do this!”

Jason latched onto Tim’s neck, “Do what feels good.”

Tim moaned, pushing Jason away slightly before resettling against his chest and pulling Jason’s arms around him. “You never did answer our questions from earlier, Dami.”

“Yea, does he got a booty?”

Damian squinted at his phone, tapping at it slowly until he found his prize. “Here,” he shoved the phone in Jason’s (and Tim’s) face.

Jason studied the photo like he was appraising a painting. “Certified booty.”

Dick’s presence disappeared from his side, sending another wave of disappointment and irritation through Damian. It was a familiar mix, usually accompanied by the need to punch something. He’d hoped, deep down, Dick would at the very least give some over protective advice, remind him to be careful dating a civilian. Anything. But he just watched as Dick retrieved his shirt and disappeared to the kitchen, his eyes glued to Dick’s rear. 


	5. Bilingual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used google translate so please forgive any errors with the Arabic :) 
> 
> I had a bit of an issue with the formatting for the translations. AO3 didn't like the way I typed them in google docs, and ended up removing them all together. I think I fixed them all. If any translations are missing I am terribly sorry, please let me know!

 

When he woke up alone, in what appeared to be a safe house, Damian ran through his most recent memories. They were spotty, jumping around scene to scene with growing gaps.

 

 

* * *

 

 _He had been on date three with Cal. Well, Damian wasn’t sure if anything really counted as a date yet. It was always casual, just coffee or a quick lunch. Between classes and apartment hunting, Damian didn’t exactly have the time for much else. Not that he_ knew _what else to do beyond coffee and lunches, but he knew damn well they were supposed to end with more than an awkward ‘I’ll see you in class’._

_He’d had to cut this one short after Tim sent an emergency text to his secure number. As he ducked quickly into Tim’s safehouse to change, he ran over possible ways to make it up to Cal._

* * *

 

 

“Sudden emergency excuse? He probably thinks I ditched him. At least he seemed okay with a reschedule… shit, I have to call him.” He tried to sit up, but a hot pain in his side kept him rooted. “I’m spending too much time with Tim, starting to talk to myself.”

 

* * *

 

_He was probably the only backup Tim had. Jason was out of the city, tracking down a lead with Roy. Bruce hadn’t exactly taken their engagement announcement well, though Alfred was more than ecstatic for the both of them. And Dick… hadn’t been back in Gotham since Jason’s party._

_It was easy enough to find the warehouse Tim was pinned down in. He slipped in, but they were expecting Red Robin to have backup. As he fought, he caught a glimpse of Tim fighting on the level below him, and just as overwhelmed._

_From there, it was fuzzy. Fighting, sending out an emergency signal-- hoping someone came in time._

_Then… they were on the roof, then a lot of pain and a streak of blue out of the corner of his eye-- catching him? He didn’t remember falling through the skylight, but it was splintered above him._

_“Robin.” There was a pressure at his side. “Stay awake. That blow to the head was pretty hard-- you’re losing a lot of blood-- you’ll be fine-- Robin! Robin!”_

* * *

 

 

Damian groaned. How embarrassing. How long had it been since he was in such a situation? Just when he was working on branching out on his own, taking to the streets without Batman at his side…

The door creaked open, revealing Tim with his arm in a sling. “Hey, you’re finally awake. Dick will be relieved, he’s been nothing but nervous energy since we got you stitched up.”

“Bullshit.” A slight panic set in, “Father-”

“Whoa, sit down. He was otherwise occupied by the Joker.” Tim pushed at his shoulder. “Oddly enough, Dick was very adamant about not alerting Bruce beyond a routine report. Which, by the way, left out the bit about you getting a chunk of glass stuck in your side.”

Right, the skylight. “The warehouse…?”

“We managed to get most of them down before Dick arrived. Do you not remember?” Tim knit his eyebrows together as he studied Damian’s eyes for signs of something being wrong.

“It’s all fuzzy, just bits and pieces. I know what to watch for, Drake.”

Before Tim could prod further the door opened again, this time it was Dick, standing awkwardly with a glass of water. Damian leveled a bored glare at him for a moment before turning back to Tim, finding him moving away.

“I’m not done with you, Drake.” _Don’t leave me with him_.

“Dami,” He bent down, taking advantage of Damian’s current state to place a kiss on his forehead. “I have some files to sort through, and-”

“No, Tim. Rest.” Dick sighed, “The files will still be there in a few hours and we don’t have an immediate need for them.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “I’m fine.”

“Don’t make me call Jason. Do you really want him nagging you too?”

“Fuck, you’re evil.” He grinned, “Demon Spawn is all yours.”

Then, Damian was alone with Dick. How long had it been? Damian closed his eyes, willing the other man to leave before either of them said something to make their rift worse. But, this was Dick.

“I thought you may want some water.” He was at Damian’s side now. The glass scraped on the wood night table as Dick sat it down.

Damian kept his eyes closed. He could smell Dick- freshly showered and unmistakably _Dick Grayson_. Questions bubbled in his throat, the same questions he’d refused to ask for the last few years. Questions he didn’t need to be answered. There was nothing to be gained, there was no _fixing_ their friendship.

“Damian, I-”

“Don’t call me that.” His fists were tight balls at his sides.

“What?”

“I’m just Robin to you.” He opened his eyes, finding Dick’s bright blues easily. “And when I turn in the cape, I’ll be nothing to you. Just another hero in a mask. Understood?”

Dick felt behind him for the chair, falling into it in a jerky movement. The broken, gaping, expression on Dick’s handsome face almost made Damian remorseful over his harsh words. Almost.

“I- Dami- Rob- please. Can we talk?” He wiped his hands over his face.

Damian almost barked out a laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Do you have the report from the warehouse?”

A frustrated growl ripped past Dick’s lips. “Damian! I almost lost you! Did Tim tell you how deep that glass was? If it had been any deeper-”

“Well, it _wasn’t_. Clearly.” He reached for the glass of water, relishing the feeling of the the soothing cool liquid on his throat.

“Please.” There was something in the way Dick said it which had Damian watching him again. He didn’t look up from his hands as he spoke, his voice soft. “I- I know I fucked up. But please, can we talk?”

Damian opened his mouth, fully intent on telling Dick to fuck off. But then he was looking up, catching Damian’s gaze only to find his piercing blues dancing and wet. The insults died in his throat as he weighed his options.

“Nightwing. I do not wish to talk.”

Dick sniffed, blinking rapidly before ducking his head.

Damian wondered what his reaction would have been had he stuck with his original response. All of the questions crept back, clawing at him to be asked. He didn’t need answers. But, maybe he needed closure. No more wondering. Then he could move on fully, snuff out the damn flame in his heart which refused to die.

“Perhaps later.” He wanted to pull the words back as they hung between them.

Dick met his gaze again, open with hope. Damian ignored the wet marks on his cheeks, tearing his eyes away before the knot in his stomach worsened.

“Okay.” Dick breathed the word. “That-- that’s a start. I- can I say something now?”

Damian stared at the door, not trusting himself to look at Dick. Seeing his once-friend in such a state was cracking the walls he’d built around everything concerning Dick. It would be so easy to forgive him, slide back into how things had once been… but with that also came the urge to pull Dick towards him, to kiss away his tears and tell him they would be okay.

If only it were that simple.

More realistically, Damian knew they couldn’t continue without talking. Their lives were too entwined; even if he turned in the Robin title, he would find a new name, new purpose, and undoubtedly still be fighting alongside Dick. No, continuing their lack of communication wouldn’t work long term.

“You may.” He sighed at the wall before turning back to Dick. “Keep it short, I require rest.”

Dick swallowed, sniffling slightly as his tongue darted out to run over his dry lips. Damian followed the movement, his thoughts again straying.

“I'm sorry.”

For a moment Damian thought that was all he would say, the silence stretching uncomfortably between them as the apology hung heavily. Just two words between them, a simple apology which could do nothing to ease the pain in his heart.

But then, Dick continued. His voice was rougher now, thick with emotion. “I know I hurt you, I… just didn't realize how much until Jason’s party. Fuck.” He ran a hand over his face then back through his hair.

Damian bit the corner of his bottom lip, holding back the question he desperately wanted to ask. The only question which really mattered, the one which preceded the second most important question. Maybe it was the combination of pain meds, or just sheer numbness after all this time, but he let them out.

“Why?” Damian couldn't look at Dick, instead focusing on his bandaged side. “What did I do wrong?”

A choked sounded caught in Dick’s throat. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He shifted in the seat, leaning towards Damian but not reaching out. “I… I owe you an explanation, I know.”

“You owe me nothing.” He needed to know.

“There's a diner on the corner of this block. Meet me there this Friday?” He stood from his chair, turning away from Damian.

“Just tell me now.”

“I… You may not want to stick around when I tell you. Rest up.”

Damian glared at his back. “Tell me now.”

“Friday. Noon?”

“Fucking tell me now or never.”

Dick half turned. “Please. I doubt the last place you'll want to be is stuck in one of my safe houses.”  
Damian glared at the wall. What could Dick possibly say which would make Damian want to leave? “I will hear what you have to say.”

“Friday?”

Damian clicked his tongue. “Fine. Friday.”

And with that, Dick left him alone with his thoughts.  
He should just blow him off, who was he to demand the terms of their discussion? But, in the end, curiosity won the battle and Damian resolved to play whatever game Dick was creating. At least until he got his answers.

* * *

 

The next afternoon Tim declared him ‘good enough’, and let him out of bed. As far as injuries went, he’d had worse, but it didn't lessen the sting in his side as the pain meds wore off. From what he gathered from Tim’s grumbling as he changed his bandages that morning, Dick left shortly after their talk the previous night.

Typical.

He weighed his options again: ditch Dick, or get answers. Again, answers won. He could twist the knife after he received sufficient answers.

“Sure you're okay? You keep staring off.” Tim’s brow crinkled as he studied Damian for signs of a concussion.

“Just.... thinking.” Damian blinked, how long had he been staring out the window? There was something coming back from his memory, _a flash of pain and sudden warmth, lips moving, saying **something**_.

He repositioned himself on the couch, mindful of his stitches. They weren't as perfect as Alfred’s, but were damn close, the mark of someone with a lot of practice.

And, that made sense, right? That it had been Dick to stitch him back up after his fall from the skylight. It was so obvious; Tim’s arm was injured, and from what he gathered no one else knew of the extent of yesterday's… failure. Dick had stitched him up before, when Alfred was busy with more severe injuries.

He shifted a few times, suddenly unable to get comfortable.

“What did he say?” Tim sat his laptop to the side, giving Damian his full attention. “More importantly, what did _you_ say? He was pretty shaken when he left last night.”

“He is trying to dictate the terms in which we will discuss the reason he left.”

Tim nodded, folding his hands under his chin. “You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to. You don’t owe him anything.”

“I know that,” Damian spat the words. “But--” Damian paused, picturing Dick’s eyes, strained and red, and wet and-- “something isn’t right.”

He paused again, his thoughts a jumble of events.

Tim leaned back against the cushions. “Talk me through it.”

Damian sighed, his gaze drifting back out the window. “He’s ignored me, pushed me away, he’s been downright dismissive and condescending, and at times completely aloof. But he wasn’t mean-- he didn’t yell, never blamed me for something. And last night…” Damian swallowed, his throat constricting despite himself. “I still care. He’s hurting, he cracked last night and let me see. I shouldn’t care, I -”

“It’s okay.” Tim kicked at his leg. “It’s okay to give him a second chance. Don’t beat yourself up for wanting to, for caring that an old friend is upset.”

“You think I should listen to him? He wants to meet tomorrow… said he wanted to tell me where I could freely leave. What does that even mean?”

For a moment, Tim said nothing. “He clearly wants you to have an out.”

“No shit.” Damian growled and dug out his phone. No new messages. No missed calls. His earlier call went unanswered. He typed out another message to Cal, expressing his deepest apologies for ditching him and again asking for a re-do.

“So,” Tim began with a cautious tone. “Have you decided what to do about your mantle?”

“No.” He threw his head back. Robin was a vital part of him, but could Robin continue without Batman? He’d always assumed he would take the cowl, never thought there could be something else waiting for him, another legacy. One he created.

Like Dick did.

With a groan of annoyance, Damian tugged at his hair. “Why can’t I stop thinking about him?”

Tim snorted but otherwise didn’t comment.

 

* * *

 

 

Damian woke to an odd sensation on his leg. He spent the night on Tim’s couch. He hadn’t had the energy, or, as Tim said, ‘the balls’, to return to his dorm last night. Cal hadn’t returned his messages by the time sleep finally claimed him.

His phone continued to vibrate insistently in his pocket. After reading the name on the screen, Damian sat up, quickly pressing the answer button.

“Cal!”

“Hey, Damian.” Cal’s voice was quiet. “I'm sorry I didn't return your messages last night. I needed time to think.”

Damian swallowed, waiting for the axe.

“Can you meet me for lunch? The diner next to the animal shelter?”

“I- yes, of course. What time?”

“Does noon work?”

“I'll see you then.”

“Alright, bye.”

“Bye.”

Damian stared at his phone, trepidation growing within him.

“Morning.” Tim waved at him from the kitchen. “Take it Cal called you back?”

“He said he was thinking and wanted to meet.” He clenched his fist. “Do you think he's going to break up with me?”

Tim hummed. “If he is, at least he's doing it in person.”

“Urgh. When is Jason getting back? He's better at relationship advice.” Damian pulled himself from the couch. It was close to 10:30 already, he had time for a quick shower before rushing across town. His side complained, reminding him to take it slow.

When he emerged from the shower, changed into the spare clothes he kept stashed in the back of the hallway closet, Tim called from where he lounged on the couch. “Aren't you supposed to be meeting Dick today?”

Damian stopped in his tracks. He'd been so caught up with Cal, he’d completely forgotten about Dick. “I'll text him and tell him I can't make it.”

He typed up a quick message, sending it as he pulled on his shoes.

“He's not going to take that well,” came Tim’s lazy response. “I approve.”

Damian clicked his tongue, making sure to close the door extra hard on his way out.

One taxi ride later -which he still found disgusting- and he was at the diner a few minutes before noon. He spotted Cal easily in a booth towards the back. As he made his way back, he took time to admire how handsome he was. It was his eyes which first drew Damian in, deep brown and so full of emotion.

“Hey,” Damian said as he lowered himself across from Cal. He winced slightly as his stitches stretched painfully from the movement.

“Are you okay?” Cal reached for his hand. And wow, Damian needed to keep this man. No one had ever sent his heart fluttering with such a simple touch. Well, no one besides Dick.

“Yea. Car accident,” he lied easily. “I'm fine, just some stitches and bruising.”

“Shit. I had no idea- why didn't you tell me?”

Damian turned his hand so he could squeeze Cal’s. “I didn’t want you to worry. I apologize for running out on you. I don't want you to think I don’t like you.”

“I-”

Cal’s response was cut short by their server coming to take their orders. They sat in silence for a few moments before Cal continued.

“Can we really do this?” He laughed nervously.

“Well, we are. I don’t understand your question.” It was going to be a long road, between his secret life, and family's status - but it was worth it, right? To have someone who could make him forget about Dick.

“Al'ahmaq.” /asshole/ The word was growled from behind him.

Damian didn’t need to turn to know it was Dick. He shot a quick glance to Cal who was staring at Dick with mild annoyance.

“Kunt alkhayal fi 'ihanatk”  /you are unimaginative in your insults/ Now he did turn around, leveling Dick with a glare. Something stirred in his memory, a whisper of Arabic into his ear. Damain forced the memory away, focusing instead on the here and now.

“Why are you here?”

“Seeing what was so important you canceled on me less than an hour before we were supposed to meet.” He glanced at Cal.

“You are the one who taught me to be flexible with my schedule.” Damian raised an eyebrow. “Or was that only when it benefited you?”

Cal shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Damian?”

“Sorry, Cal. Richard was just leaving. Yumkinuna 'iieadat jadwala. Kunt la tahsul ealaa tumli hayati” /We can reschedule. You do not get to dictate my life/

Something flicked across Dick’s face, but was gone before Damian could analyze it. “Raqm la 'astatie 'an 'afeal hdha. 'ansaa dhalik.” /No. I can't do this. Forget it./ He shook his head as he turned, quickly exiting the diner.

“Sorry about that.” Damian turned back to Cal once Dick was out of the building.

Cal chuckled nervously. “Jealous ex? What language was that?”

Damain frowned, shaking his head at the questions. Another thing he would need to teach Cal about himself, if he even would be open to learning Arabic. More importantly, what was Dick’s problem? The hazy memory floated back, this time he reached for it, trying to pull it from the depths of his mind.

 

* * *

 

 

_The skylight was broken above him, jagged edges and blood- his blood. His head rested on something firm, something warm-- black and blue-- Dick. Confused, he looked up to the masked face, taking in the downturn of his lips and the sweat on his brow._

_“D- Nightwing?” He lulled his head back, finding it hard to keep his eyes open._

_“Robin.” There was a pressure at his side. “Stay awake. That blow to the head was pretty hard-- you’re losing a lot of blood-- you’ll be fine-- Robin! Robin!”_

_“ ‘m here.”_

_He closed his eyes, just a blink, and when he opened them again his head was on Dick’s shoulder. Strong arms held him up as they moved out of the building. It must have been the adrenaline, he thought, if Dick was carrying his larger frame by himself._

_Dick paused in the doorway, waiting for something. He turned his head, calloused lips brushing against Damian’s ear. “Kl dhlk hu khatay. La 'astatie 'an takhsur , Damyan, Hal tasmaeuni ? 'Ant ealami , hatta 'iidha kan qad tamm min masafat baeidat.” /It is all my fault. I can't lose you, Damian, do you hear me? You are my world, even if it has been from a distance./_

_Then, Tim showed up with a car and Dick was moving him again, this time to the back seat._  

* * *

 

 

Damian blinked at the memory. Was that real, or something his mind created to fill the gaps.

“Damian?” Cal was giving him an impatient look. “Do I have your attention now?”

“Yes. My apologies.”

Cal sighed, “As I was saying before your, ah, friend, interrupted… I don’t know if I can do this. We are just-- too different.”

 _'ant ealami_. “I…” Was Cal breaking up with him? _'ant ealami_. “I understand.” He threw a few bills on the table as he stood.

_'ant ealami_

“Damian!” Cal called after him, but he didn’t look back. He would have to face him in class come Monday, but it didn’t matter.

He burst out the diner door, frantically looking down the street, hoping to find the mop of Black hair belonging to Dick. But, he had a head start, could have taken a cab, or a rooftop.

_'ant ealami_

Damian picked a direction, jogging down the sidewalk, ignoring the pull of his stitches as he weaved in and out of the crowds. Knowing Dick, he would be sulking, taking his time to walk. He just hoped he’d picked the right direction.

Pedestrian’s shouted at him as he ran past, hurling insults as he shoved past.

_'ant ealami_

It was luck, something he’d never relied on before. It was luck which led him to the intersection where Dick was crossing. He bolted across, catching up just as Dick reached the other side.

 _“ ' **ant ealami**_ ” 

Dick froze, turning around, his eyes panicked. “Damian-”

“I remembered.” He walked towards Dick, crowding him into the brick wall of the alley. “Is that what you were going to tell me today?”

Dick swallowed, looking up to meet Damain’s eyes. “Please, just drop it. Go back to your date.”

“You ruined the mood. If you want to talk so fucking badly, then tell me. Because I’m all sorts of confused. Your words are not matching your actions. At all.”

He took great pleasure knowing Dick had to look up to him, that his shoulders were just slightly wider, and his muscles more defined. No longer was he the runt of the family, shorter than even Tim- no, now he was grown, his own man.

“Roof.” Dick nodded to the fire escape next to them.

Damain pulled back, giving Dick room to move away. He followed him as he climbed, admiring the view. Even in looser jeans, Dick’s ass was a work of art. The closer they got to the roof, the quicker his heart beat, all of his fears bubbling to the surface.

He stepped over the ledge, steeling himself for whatever was to come. Dick kept his back to him, staring out over the city like it could save him from an impending doom.

“Let’s get this over with.” ' _ant ealami_. He shook his head, refusing to kindle the hope in his chest.  
Dick took a seat on the roof, patting the concrete next to him.

Damain walked around Dick, stopping in front of him with his arms crossed and an indifferent expression plastered on his face, a steep contrast to the whirlwind waging inside of him. “I’ll stand, thank you.”

“Okay. I’ll start with the night future you came through the portal.”


	6. Sexual innocence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt is very loosely used. But it's there subtly.

“Okay. I’ll start with the night future you came through the portal.”

Damian watched cautiously as Dick stretched out his neck. He'd long suspected it was that night which changed everything, something his older, alternate, self caused.

Maybe he was better off not knowing. Playing with knowledge of the future could prove dangerous. That is, if that reality was even close to this one.

“You… you can leave at anytime. I won't chase after you.”

“Just get on with it.” He rolled a small chunk of concrete under his boot. Being out, on top of a roof, and without his gear left him feeling exposed. “And be quick.”

“Okay. The portal opened at…”

 

* * *

 

  
  
_The portal triggered the alarms the moment it began to manifest inside the watchtower cafeteria. By the time Dick arrived it was fully realized, an angry, unstable, mass of energy._

_When it stabilized, everyone stood ready to face whatever foe would appear. A single boot appeared first, and slowly a long, thick leg followed._

_As Dick remembered back, everything came in slow motion. The boot - the leg- an arm_

_He reached for his weapons, ready for an immediate attack. But such an attack never came._

_The rest of the intruder emerged from the portal, a gracefully muscled silhouette. Before he could get a better look, Superman was blocking his view, speaking with the intruder._

_Dick moved closer, relaxing when Superman held his hands in a “stand down” gesture. He moved aside, giving everyone a clear view of the intruder._

_He looked familiar._

_Carefully, he stepped closer to where Superman and the intruder stood. There was no doubt._

_“Dami? Damian?”_

_Sharp eyes darted his direction, something dangerous flashing in them. Dick took the moment to scrutinize him from this closer distance. His hair was longer, to his ears- unkempt and almost wild. Like he'd been fighting and hiding for more time than he could count. Stubble coated his strong jawline. Dick swallowed, not daring to let his eyes roam further._

_He looked up- yes, up- to the man in front of him. Those too-familiar eyes had softened, a quiet sorrow brewing._

_“Yes.” His voice was just above a whisper, said to Dick alone. “I’ve -”_

_“What is going on?” Batman’s voice boomed over the small gathering. He pushed his way to them, and Dick could see Robin left behind, trying to shoulder his way past Kid Flash and Black Canary._  
_He tried not to dwell on his Damian and this Damian being the same. His Damian would always be the short kid, trying so hard to prove himself to everyone. But then, he glanced again at Damian glaring at them from the back of the crowd of heroes, Damian had grown over the last few years._

_How had he missed that?_

_From there, everything was a blur of movement and meetings._

_As the other Damian explained to the few selected to be there about the plight heading their way, his gaze kept drifting to Dick. It was a little disconcerting, having an older version of his friend talking to him- because that's what it seemed, Damian was talking to only him, and all the others were just a necessary nuisance._

_Superman and Batman wanted to approach the impending attack in different ways, leading to sides being drawn in the meeting room._

_“Somethings never change.” The deep voice in his ear was startling, no one had been sitting on his left for the entire meeting._

_Dick didn’t need to turn to know it was Damian who had slid next to him, but he did anyway. “I don’t see what's so bad about attacking this the same way you did on your Earth.”_

_Damian’s expression hardened, his eyes having the same sharpness as when he first came from the portal. Then, it melted away, replaced with down turned lips and rapid blinking before that too was replaced, this time with a blank mask. A blank mask that was_ so Damian _._

_“You died.” Damian held his gaze firmly._

_Oh. “The planet was saved. It's a risk we all take.”_

_Long black hair fell over his shoulder as Damian looked away. “I'm not watching you die again.”_

_Dick pushed his shoulder. “Well, if we fail you just might anyway!”_

_During his outburst, his voice raised higher than intended. Everyone at the table paused their discussions, attention focused on them._

_“Care to share?” Batman stared at them. Dick wondered what Bruce thought of this, of seeing his son grown._

_Dick glanced over to Damian, whose lips were now pressed in a firm, thin line. Would his Damian risk so much for his sake? Friendship was important, and he counted Damian, young as he was, as a good friend. But was friendship worth risking the lives of countless others? It was a choice he’d had to make again and again, to weigh one life against ten; who do you save when there is only time to choose one?_

_“We should use the same plan the Justice League of Damian two’s Earth. With some adjustments to fit our Earth’s differences.”_

_He chanced another glance to Damian. The small pout was so… Damian. So was the slight curl of his fists. All minute enough to go unnoticed by those sitting further away._

_More arguing commenced. ‘Why didn’t you volunteer this information sooner?’ ‘Perhaps we should look at alternatives.’ ‘Many good heros died on my Earth. Do you wish to court the same fate?’_

_Dick tuned them all out. He tried to listen, tried to follow the arguments so he could offer an opinion. The man next to him -Damian, he needed to remind himself- held his attention whenever he spoke. And when he wasn’t speaking, Dick traced the lines of his lips and his jaw, his eyes roaming over the muscles outlined by his long shirt._

_The meeting ended without him hearing the final decision. And when Bruce asked on their way back to the cave, he blamed his inattention on learning of his death in the other universe. Bruce bought it, from what he could tell. But Damian didn’t._

_He could very well die, if their battle played out like the other one. Although, he had been much older, out of his prime, probably no longer as agile. Would that be the deciding factor?_

_Wordlessly, Dick and Damian waited in the batmobile while Bruce gathered his spare supplies from the cave. Dick barely registering they’d even arrived, his attention solely on keeping his eyes from roaming to Damian._

_“Dick. Can we speak for a moment before Father comes back?”_

_“There isn’t anything for us to talk about unless it’s the mission.” Dick took a hard breath. “I’m not_ him _. I’m not your Dick.”_

_“I know that. I just-”_

_Dick cut him off by exiting the Batmobile, shutting the door gently to avoid an unnecessary scene. He leaned against the passenger side, thinking hard. All he could see when he closed his eyes were those worried eyes fading into an indifferent mask, the trail of stubble down a strong jaw, down a neck-- down. No-- this was Damian._

_Older or not. It was still Damian. He had no right to think about his muscled thighs or the curve of his-- it had to be the stress. Sure, he’d faced Earth destroying danger before, knew he could die every time he put on the mask. But_ knowing _he’d died doing exactly what they were about to do-- that had to be it._

_His eyes snapped open when he heard someone approach._

_Damian._

_His Damian- not the one inches taller with much more muscle. His eyes slid down his short cropped hair to his jawline. So similar. And…_

_“What's going on?” Damian slid his back against the side of the vehicle. Even slouched, Dick could see his earlier assessment of Damian’s height was off. Standing here, shoulder to shoulder, it was clear how much Damian had grown over the last year. How had he missed that? They saw each other often; was he just blind to Damian growing up?_

_Dick turned, looking through the back window to where Damian sat, able to hear every word said. Damian, who was so much like his Damian._

_“The visitor from the future-”_

_“Me.”_

_Yes you. It was impossible to deny they were the same person. Would be the same person, perhaps with different hairstyle choices. The thought of Damian -his Damian- looking like… growing into… but he almost was. But he wasn’t._

_“-he gave us intel on an inter-dimensional threat tearing through his world and now it is heading for ours. You and Red Robin will watch Gotham while we help handle it.”_

_“I can help! I can-”_

_“Robin.” This was Robin. His Robin. Different from the man in the back of the Batmobile. If he said it out loud, maybe he could convince himself._

_Dick could feel Damian’s eyes on him, looking without needing to look up. He kept his gaze forward, not daring to speak further with Damian. He always had a way of knowing what was bothering him, of pulling it out of him simply by getting him to talk first about something innocent and unrelated. This though… no, Damian didn’t need to know. So, Dick kept his mouth shut, lips pressed firmly together to keep them from disobeying._

_Finally, after minutes of silent torture, Damian left._  
_A long breath of air blew past his lips, his shoulders relaxed a fraction. Just a fraction. Would this be the last time he saw Damian? A stunted conversation could be his last interaction with him._

_Bruce's voice boomed through the cave. “Red Hood, are you geared up?”_

_“Always.” Jason jogged up to Dick while Bruce finished his prepping. “Shotgun.”_

_“Jay.” Dick sighed, shook his head, and opened the back door. The back seat was cramped with him and Damian, their thighs pressed together no matter how Dick tried to adjust._

_“That was sort of mean, don't you think?” Damian’s eyes were heavy._

_Jason barked a laugh, “So, future Damian learns how to use contractions?”_

_Dick felt the need to remind Jason of the situation. “Future **and** different universe. Nothing about him or his world should be compared to ours.”_

_Jason arched an eyebrow at that, but turned back around._

_“Are you not close with this Earth’s me?” The mask was back._

_“They're practically inseparable,” Jason said from the front._

_Dick resisted the urge to kick the seat. Next to him, Damian was quiet. Wordlessly, he placed his domino mask over his eyes, masking his expressions for good._  
  


* * *

 

_The battle wasn’t much at first. They were on wave two, stationed behind the heavy hitters. Just as Damian said, they didn't have to wait long. Soon enough, the space-time rip grew._

_Dick and Jason kept close for most of the fight. Damian bounced around, relaying information as he could on how best to defeat each new enemy type. How did you fight energy? Even with Zatanna's rooting spells, locking them into a solid form, they deflected most physical attacks._

_“I hate being crowd control,” Jason said behind him._

_“We all have our part.” Dick wondered how long his other self lasted during his version of this battle. At least this time they were prepared, precious time wasn’t wasted scrambling while the attack began._

_“Nightwing!” Damian caught a blow heading for his back. He'd been doing so all night, watching out for him, protecting him…_

_Dick caught a punch with his chin, a painful sting of energy rippling under the solid hit. It sent him backwards, hard ground rushing up to meet him. The creature lunged, unstable energy slamming into his leg._

_“Nightwing!” Damian and Jason swooped in, pushing the creature back into the hoard. “Can you stand?”_

_Oh, it hurt like hell, but he stood. He stood, and he fought through the pain._

_And when it was finally over, Damian was at his side, checking his leg. “You fucking idiot!”_

* * *

 

_Having to be basically carried was a little embarrassing, but he didn’t have the energy to argue. His eternal gratitude for Alfred grew as the numbing ointment and pain pill took effect._

_It was good. They won. He survived. After a shower, he would find Damian - his Damian - and apologize for his bluntness._

_Then, “May I have a word with Dick alone?” Damian stared down both Alfred and Bruce until they nodded and walked a distance away._

_“Thank you.” Dick tried to smile at him. “If you hadn't warned us, if you hadn't taken that risk…”_

_Damian looked down, his face shadowed in the dim lighting. “I've missed you.” He stepped closer, reaching out to run a finger over the torn fabric on Dick’s shoulder. “I know you're not him. But.. you also are.”_

_An involuntarily shudder ran up his back. This was Damian. “I'm sorry for your loss. We're you and he -me- close?”_

_Damian exhaled through his nose, his hand still on Dick’s shoulder. “Yes. Even though I did everything to fuck it up, he eventually forgave me. It took too long to admit again, we were idiots dancing around each other for years. Decades. Because I was cruel when I was young.”_

_“Damian?”_

_“Two years. That's all I got. Then he… I held you. If I had just been quick enough then-”_

_Dick wrapped his arms around his waist, “I'm sorry.”_

_He held Damian until he pulled back. The air between them was heavy, Damian’s words running circles, their meaning obvious. He'd suspected before now, but now it was real, confirmed._

_It was too serious._

_Dick tilted his head. “Do I age gracefully?”_

_Damian’s laugh was wet, his eyes red and strained from holding back tears. But he smiled, “Yes. Your ass stayed perfect.”_

_Then, the tension was back. This was Damian. Was he suggesting he would one day look at his Damian like his Dick looked at him? No, Damain was 16. But, what in 3 years, or 4? Would he look at him like that then? When his Damian looked like this one? No. He wouldn’t._

_This Damian was attractive, sure. But, he was still Damian. From a different timeline. With different experiences._

_“I should go. My portal home will only last a few more hours.” He knocked his forehead to Dick’s, breathing in deep. “I wish I could take you with me.”_  
_Damian pulled back, brushing his nose against Dick’s, his eyes closed. Dick saw the pause, knew Damian was giving him an out, but he was frozen. A few heartbeats later, chapped lips moved against his own, slow, and soft, and sad._

_It was the goodbye kiss Damian needed._  
_It was the start of something Dick didn’t._

* * *

 

  
“And that's the abridged version of what happened that night.” Dick’s eyes were closed.

Damian crossed his arms. “Abridged is a nice way to put it. What the actual fuck, Dick? An alternate version of me kissed you, so you just decided to punish me? Was it that revolting?”

“I- were you listening?” Dick rubbed at his eyes. “Damian, it was selfish. I didn’t trust myself to not fall for you. I thought, maybe, an early break, a clean break, before you grew up… but, I only made it worse.”

“What the dick, Dick? You were afraid you might develop feelings for me at some point, so you decided to be a cruel jackass instead?” Damian turned his back to Dick, ignoring his need to pace.  
“Did it work?”

“What?”

“Did all of this,” he waved his arms, “help you? Did foregoing our friendship work?”

Dick coughed behind him. “No. It didn't.”

Damian closed his eyes tightly as his blood ran cold. He had wanted an answer, wanted the truth. It was important to know, even if it killed you a little inside. He wanted to turn, pull Dick close and tell him his feelings were returned, kiss him, and move on to whatever came next.

The need to drive the knife further won, years of hurting refused to be pushed aside. “Well, congratulations on fucking up any chance those feelings could be mutual.”

He didn't turn to see the reaction his words had. He couldn’t. Instead, he took the fire escape on the other side of the roof.  
…

Well, he'd fucked that up beyond belief. And he'd thought it was already at that point. Nope, leave it to his mouth to find the right words to completely shatter any hope left.

“You've been looking at the same apartment listing for like 10 minutes, D.” Tim slid into the chair next to him. “Date didn’t go well?”

“Cal and I broke up.” He wasn't all that upset over it. Not really. The next listing was a blur like the others. “I talked to Dick.”

“Ah.” Tim leaned on the table with one elbow. “So, take it that didn't go well then?”

“I ruined it.” Damian dropped his head to the table. “He explained, and I said something I shouldn’t, then I left.”

“Annnnd?” Tim made a motion with his hand.

“And? I'm basically in love with him. And when he said he had feelings for me, I said I could never feel the same.”

Tim leaned back in his chair.

“He won't try to talk again. He said so back at his safe house.”

“Go talk to him then.”

Damian rotated his head on the table to look at Tim. “Isn't this better? It's not like we actually could…”

“Why not?” Tim shrugged a shoulder. “Either way,” he stood from his chair, “make your move soon. If you wait for Jason to get back and give you better advice, it may be too late. But he'd probably say something like _‘don't overthink it_ ’.”

 

* * *

 

Damian waited at Dick’s condo for him to return. He'd spent the last day weighing possibilities and outcomes, and ultimately failing to decide on much. The one thing he did decide was he needed Dick back in his life.

As it neared 5pm, he grew more nervous. Dick’s dog finally calmed down, now she was lounging with her head on his lap as he pet her anxiously.  
She sprung up, sounding a loud bark right before the front door opened.

Damian watched from the couch as Dick listlessly greeted her, his mouth dry and unable to say anything let alone call out to him. Dick was still in his police uniform, which he began to unbutton as he walked to the living room.

He looked up, stopping dead in the middle of the room, his overshirt hanging open to expose his stained white undershirt. “Damian?”

Damian nodded, his mouth still to dry to form words.

“Every- uh, everything okay?” He ket his gaze on the cushions.

“I-” Damian cleared his throat. “No. It's not.”

Dick winced, “I'm sorry.”

Damian stood, finding his confidence again. “Me too.”

They stood, hovering in place as they waited for the other to move first, to speak first, to run away first. The few feet of deep blue carpet separating them seemed to both stretch for miles and pull them closer like they were in the wake of a boat.

Dick moved first, shoulders sagging as he finished unbuttoning his overshirt. “I'm guessing you have some speech prepared? Damian, I sorry, I don’t think I did a good job at all at expressing how sorry I am.”

“I didn’t plan anything.” Damian fell back to the couch, running a hand over his face. “I couldn't decide on what to say, or how to say it, so I figured I would just wing it.”

Dick took a few steps before pausing, “Can I?” He motioned to the cushion next to Damian. When Damian nodded, he continued on his path, gently sliding onto the couch.

It was like coming home. Even with the tension still lingering, having Dick close, knowing he wanted to be that close, made the future seem a little brighter.

Damian swallowed hard, picking out his next words carefully. There was so much to say, where should he even start. His hope that Dick would say something first died when he turned his head, eyes expectant.

“I missed you.” Those three words held years of sorrow. “And I'm sorry for some of the things I've said. I shouldn’t have said that at Jason’s party.”

Dick was silent a moment, his breathing leveling out. “I deserved it.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“If I hadn't been badly injured, would you have ever told me? Or would you still be avoiding me?”

Dick looked away, an answer by itself. “Not now, now. I'd been thinking about it since the party, but that was what pushed me to act. I honestly don't know when I'd have gotten the courage otherwise.”

Damian nodded, thinking over his words.

“I didn’t think I'd see you again. Not unless our paths crossed on a case.” Dick turned back towards him. “Thank you for coming.”

“I missed my friend.” Damian shrugged like he didn’t feel like the whole of Wayne Tower was on his shoulders. “I'd like to have him back.”

“I've missed my friend too.”

Damian smirked, “Think you can keep your hands to yourself?”

Dick reeled back. “What?”

“Given the information you gave me yesterday, I'd like to ensure you'll be able to keep our friendship… friendly. You did seem worried about that, that's why you left, right?” His heart pounded in his chest. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, and he wasn’t sure how to win.

“Dami… Yes, I can. I don't expect you to ever feel the same for me, and I'd never put our friendship in danger because of it.”

“So that's a yes?”

Dick sighed. “Yes, I'll keep my hands to myself.”

As the last syllable past Dick’s lips, Damian swung his legs over Dick’s, straddling him on the couch. He didn’t stop to think. With his heart hammering against his chest, he quickly leaned down, claiming Dick’s lips for his own.

It felt so right. Dick’s slimmer frame fit perfectly against him, like it was where he was meant to be.

Hands gripped his hips loosely for a moment before they tightened and Dick kissed him back. It wasn't great, not that Damian had anything to compare the kiss to, but it was good enough.

“What.” Dick breathed when Damian pulled away. “What the hell was that?”

Damian covered Dick’s hands with his own. “Breaking your word already?”

“Damian!” Dick pushed at his hips, and Damian let him roll him to his previous spot on the couch. “What?”

“I've liked you forever,” Damian admitted. “It never went away, even when I thought you hated me- when I hated you.”

“Dami…” Dick shifted.

What now? There was no turning back, now. No more pretending.

“Can we order that gross takeout you love and talk?” Damian squared his shoulders.

“You secretly love that gross takeout too.” Dick pushed his shoulder against Damian. “Is this okay?”

“Yea.” Damian sighed. “This is awkward.”

Dick pulled at his undershirt, giving it a loud fake sniff. “Probably doesn't help that I stink from work.”  
The humor was appreciated. “Dick.”

“Are you sure you want to try this?” He motioned between the two of them.

Damian groaned, dropping his head dramatically against Dick’s shoulder. “I've been spending too much time with Tim. My gut reaction was to say ‘Try or try not’.”

Dick’s laugh was rich in his ear.

“I do. Want to try.” He pulled his head up, “Do you?”

“Dami,” He sandwiched one of Damian’s hands with his own. “I want to fix our friendship first. It’s been far too long.. And I don’t want to ruin it again. Friends first, okay?”

Damian clicked his tongue. “I want to go slow, yes. But I would like to kiss you again. Soon.” _Like now_. “But, friends first. Always.”

Dick released his hands so he could cup Damian’s face. “Friends first. And as your friend, and possible _boy_ friend, I need to inform you that your kissing technique needs some work.”

Damian wanted to glare, he really did. But there was truth to his words, as well as a promise. Instead, he smiled. There was so much they needed to sort out. So much Damian needed to sort out. It didn’t seem so daunting with Dick by his side once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I regret not naming the dogs. They were supposed to be mentioned in one chapter, but then I couldn't just ignore them! gah. If I ever edit this I'll fix that. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


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